Friday, January 16, 2009
Erg
Okay, well, poo.
I had planned to put out my anti-litter campaign today. But accepting the sage advice of others, I'm going out this weekend to buy real graphic design software to create my logo. After much research and bugging more knowledgable people, I've decided I can get buy with something rudimentary, but do need something that is actually designed for this purpose. Not just me dinking around with my PowerPoint program if I want results that don't look like they're smeared in Vaseline, and can be used by a variety of sources.
Sigh.
Okay, I'm ready to soldier on. I eat adversity for breakfast. It's the fuel of greatness. Okay, not really. I'd much prefer that this be easy. But I'm trying not to be a big old wuss-burger.
So I'm off to the Fry's tonight to buy some kind of software. Maybe I can find something that says "For ages 6 to 12" on the box. That's about my speed. I'm hoping that I'll have time over the weekend to learn the basics and have something cranked out my Tuesday. Because what I want to do really is major basic. Simple is my forte.
I had planned to put out my anti-litter campaign today. But accepting the sage advice of others, I'm going out this weekend to buy real graphic design software to create my logo. After much research and bugging more knowledgable people, I've decided I can get buy with something rudimentary, but do need something that is actually designed for this purpose. Not just me dinking around with my PowerPoint program if I want results that don't look like they're smeared in Vaseline, and can be used by a variety of sources.
Sigh.
Okay, I'm ready to soldier on. I eat adversity for breakfast. It's the fuel of greatness. Okay, not really. I'd much prefer that this be easy. But I'm trying not to be a big old wuss-burger.
So I'm off to the Fry's tonight to buy some kind of software. Maybe I can find something that says "For ages 6 to 12" on the box. That's about my speed. I'm hoping that I'll have time over the weekend to learn the basics and have something cranked out my Tuesday. Because what I want to do really is major basic. Simple is my forte.
A Teachable Moment
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090116/ap_on_en_ot/obit_andrew_wyeth
This story reminded me of one of my most embarassing moments. When I was a teenager, I went on a class trip to the National Gallery of Art. Not sure what the class was. But I remember the assignment was to find 3 pieces of art that spoke to you, and write a paragraph about each.
The thing about the National Gallery (which is one of my favorite places on this planet) is that it isn't so much about finding 3 pieces of art that speak to you, it's about narrowing it down to 3 pieces. We had the run of both wings so there was art from the Middle Ages to contemporary pieces. From The White Girl http://www.nga.gov/fcgi-bin/timage_f?object=12198&image=4427&c= to Calder mobiles http://www.nga.gov/fcgi-bin/timage_f?object=92738&image=21156&c=.
A friend and I both were attracted to one painting. A field dusted with snow. The only real features were two fence posts. Anything to do with ice or snow usually sends me running. But there was something about the simplicity of the painting that drew me in. The friend and I were standing of the picture. I looked down at the brass nameplate on the frame. All the sudden, I put the name Wyeth together with the Christina's World painting, and the Helga paintings that had just come out. Nudes. Oh, my.
Well, it was all a little too much for my teenage brain. I got excited and poked the frame next to the nameplate with the eraser end of my pencil. Instantly, one of the many navy-blazered guards came over and calmly took the pencil out of my hand. He must have been watching the chattery teenagers for just this sort of foolishness. He was an older gentleman. He gave me one of those little "no, no, no" shakes of his head. I felt about this big. And, of course, teenagers don't deal with embarassment well. So I got all indignant and huffed off, "It's not like I was going to hurt the painting. I only touched the frame." It was a teachable moment. I just wasn't very teachable at that particular moment.
I'm actually more embarassed now for the huffiness than for being flighty enough to jab at a master work with a pencil (though really, that too). He was doing his job. I made a mistake. And I should have been gracious about being corrected. Ya live. Ya learn. And I keep that little incident in my head. I may be older. But I'm still me. I'm bound to do something foolish in public again. Next time I hope I'm a bigger person when I get the pencil taken from my hand.
http://www.nga.gov/fcgi-bin/timage_f?object=56385&image=14015&c=
This story reminded me of one of my most embarassing moments. When I was a teenager, I went on a class trip to the National Gallery of Art. Not sure what the class was. But I remember the assignment was to find 3 pieces of art that spoke to you, and write a paragraph about each.
The thing about the National Gallery (which is one of my favorite places on this planet) is that it isn't so much about finding 3 pieces of art that speak to you, it's about narrowing it down to 3 pieces. We had the run of both wings so there was art from the Middle Ages to contemporary pieces. From The White Girl http://www.nga.gov/fcgi-bin/timage_f?object=12198&image=4427&c= to Calder mobiles http://www.nga.gov/fcgi-bin/timage_f?object=92738&image=21156&c=.
A friend and I both were attracted to one painting. A field dusted with snow. The only real features were two fence posts. Anything to do with ice or snow usually sends me running. But there was something about the simplicity of the painting that drew me in. The friend and I were standing of the picture. I looked down at the brass nameplate on the frame. All the sudden, I put the name Wyeth together with the Christina's World painting, and the Helga paintings that had just come out. Nudes. Oh, my.
Well, it was all a little too much for my teenage brain. I got excited and poked the frame next to the nameplate with the eraser end of my pencil. Instantly, one of the many navy-blazered guards came over and calmly took the pencil out of my hand. He must have been watching the chattery teenagers for just this sort of foolishness. He was an older gentleman. He gave me one of those little "no, no, no" shakes of his head. I felt about this big. And, of course, teenagers don't deal with embarassment well. So I got all indignant and huffed off, "It's not like I was going to hurt the painting. I only touched the frame." It was a teachable moment. I just wasn't very teachable at that particular moment.
I'm actually more embarassed now for the huffiness than for being flighty enough to jab at a master work with a pencil (though really, that too). He was doing his job. I made a mistake. And I should have been gracious about being corrected. Ya live. Ya learn. And I keep that little incident in my head. I may be older. But I'm still me. I'm bound to do something foolish in public again. Next time I hope I'm a bigger person when I get the pencil taken from my hand.
http://www.nga.gov/fcgi-bin/timage_f?object=56385&image=14015&c=
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Why should Oscar have all the fun?
Well, with all the awards season hoopla, I’m going to throw out my best picture of 2008. For me, it had to be Wall-E. Yeah, no lead up. No drama. That’s just it.
It had everything. A message about being a good person . . .er, robot. About taking care of the earth. It was straight talk about how we could really screw this up if we aren’t careful. It was dystopian scifi. And hopeful scifi. It was slapstick and action pic. It was just plain beautiful to look at. And it was the most romantic movie of the year.
Yup. That’s right. Romantic. He’s not perfect. He’s short, with a dead-end job and a cockroach for a best friend. She’s got some issues too. She’s a little cold and obsessed with her job, and she vaporizes things with her finger. But, in spite of it all, they see the good in each other. They risk their lives for each other. They will do anything to help the other do the right thing. And they live happily ever after. Sigh. Grand. That’s romantic.
Plus, he’s a straight guy who digs musical theater. What ain’t to love about that? (Okay. I admit that’s stereotyping. But, you know.)
There wasn’t another movie last year that got me the way this one did. In an era when people are thinking about things like change, hope and the future, Wall-E was the right movie at the right time.
It had everything. A message about being a good person . . .er, robot. About taking care of the earth. It was straight talk about how we could really screw this up if we aren’t careful. It was dystopian scifi. And hopeful scifi. It was slapstick and action pic. It was just plain beautiful to look at. And it was the most romantic movie of the year.
Yup. That’s right. Romantic. He’s not perfect. He’s short, with a dead-end job and a cockroach for a best friend. She’s got some issues too. She’s a little cold and obsessed with her job, and she vaporizes things with her finger. But, in spite of it all, they see the good in each other. They risk their lives for each other. They will do anything to help the other do the right thing. And they live happily ever after. Sigh. Grand. That’s romantic.
Plus, he’s a straight guy who digs musical theater. What ain’t to love about that? (Okay. I admit that’s stereotyping. But, you know.)
There wasn’t another movie last year that got me the way this one did. In an era when people are thinking about things like change, hope and the future, Wall-E was the right movie at the right time.
A very, VERY short play
Scene: A small, dark room. One man stands in the center
A second man enters, rushes to the first man and grabs him by the collar.
SECOND MAN: You sold me out, asshole! I know it was you.
FIRST MAN: (Struggles away) No! No! It wasn’t me!
SM: You were the only one who knew. I didn’t give that information to anyone else.
FM: I swear, I didn’t give it to anyone else. You gotta believe me!
SM: Then how did they find me? You sold me to the highest bidder, you mercenary bastard!
FM: I wouldn’t. I couldn’t! That identity was secure.
SM: (Attacks FM and throws him to the ground) Then why’s my Inbox full of ads for Viagra? I told you – never, never give out my e-mail address!
A second man enters, rushes to the first man and grabs him by the collar.
SECOND MAN: You sold me out, asshole! I know it was you.
FIRST MAN: (Struggles away) No! No! It wasn’t me!
SM: You were the only one who knew. I didn’t give that information to anyone else.
FM: I swear, I didn’t give it to anyone else. You gotta believe me!
SM: Then how did they find me? You sold me to the highest bidder, you mercenary bastard!
FM: I wouldn’t. I couldn’t! That identity was secure.
SM: (Attacks FM and throws him to the ground) Then why’s my Inbox full of ads for Viagra? I told you – never, never give out my e-mail address!
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